


Window Panes

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Family Issues, M/M, OCs - Freeform, OOCs - Freeform, Squib, Wolfstar here is background, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Regulus Black, the pureblood heir of the Black family, found a haven in a coffee shop owned by a pureblood squib named Elfie. As they get to know each other, Regulus' loyalties get tested and he must decide - just what does he stand for?





	Window Panes

“The usual?”

    “No, something bitterer.” Elfie arched a pale eyebrow at the stranger’s answer but suggested a different drink. “Yes, I suppose that’ll do.” The man went to go sit at a booth by the window in Elfie’s coffee shop. It was a cozy store - six booths by the waist-to-ceiling windows and a row of 10 barstools by the counter. There was an upright piano pressed to the only spare wall on the opposite side of the door, the piano Elfie would play if she had little work to do.

    Normally, this would be now - the last hour before closing at 9 - but for the last three weeks, Elfie had a very tall, very handsome stranger come into her store for some coffee. He would take the exact same booth - the second to last - and pull out a sketchbook and some parchment, drawing or writing with a quill.

    If Elfie was a regular muggle, she would be rather befuddled. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she wasn’t quite normal - she was a squib.

    “Here you go.” Elfie placed the warm beverage at the table, giving the man a small smile. He glanced up and flashed her a small, insincere but polite smile and continued sketching. Elfie could see out of the corner of her eye that it seemed to be some sort of person, but she left before she could get a close enough look.

    From the coffee bar, she contemplated the stranger. Frankly, they couldn’t be any more different. Elfie was a short, heavyset woman with rounded features, short curly blonde hair and speckled brown eyes. The stranger, however, held the sharp pureblood features, with a limber build and shoulder-length raven hair that would veil his face as he worked. Elfie scrunched her nose in contemplation - it had been so long since she tried to remember something from her pureblood etiquette lessons, she could hardly remember the family features. Definitely dark, Elfie knew. Or perhaps neutral. But certainly not a light family, that she knew.

    Impatient, The woman stood, taking her ledgers and putting them in her backroom office desk, deciding to do them tomorrow morning. Instead, she picked a music score from the bookshelf, letting a small smile spread over her features. Perhaps it was time to entertain her rather incessant new regular.

    “You wouldn’t mind if I made a bit of noise, sir, would you?” Elfie asked warmly, startling the raven-haired man.

    “Ah, no.” He murmured, barely sparing her a glance before going back to his work. Elfie’s smile stiffened slightly, but she moved to the piano, pulling out an old score she hadn’t touched in quite a while.

    The first few notes of Sonata No. 8, “Pathetique”’s second movement were slow rolling, lazy from inactivity, before picking into a warm melody that made Elfie sigh lightly. The notes lingered, reminding Elfie of the old garden where the butterflies would flock among the magically-kept flowers. Elfie never was able to capture them, only stare from the bench in a forgotten envy, for they were free from etiquette classes, free from the responsibilities of a Rosewood female heir.

    In hindsight, Elfie learned that freedom came with its own bitterness, but she ignored the dark thought, rather focusing on avoiding mistakes - it was a tricky song, after all. But when the final notes of the movement dissipated into the old store, Elfie looked up and remembered, with a wince, that this was not the manor’s echoing music chamber, but a muggle coffee shop in a London suburb. She stared at the music score for a moment more, startled out of it when she hears slow, soft claps coming from the only other person in the room.

    “That was quite beautiful.” The man softly commented. Turned around, Elfie could finally see that the man had gentle silver eyes, somewhat odd on his harsher features.

    “Thank you.” She murmured. “It was Beethoven, “Pathetique”, movement 2.”

    The man quirked the edge of his lip. “I’m aware.” He dryly said.  
    “Do you play piano then too?” Elfie asked, slightly cocking her head.

    “I...no. My older brother did, though he hated it. Mother wanted us to play music - it was “proper” per say. I liked to sing.” He recalled. The two settled into an uncomfortable silence.

    “You’ve been quite the regular. I think this is the first time I’ve ever gotten more information from you than your favorite type of coffee.” Elfie joked, offering an awkward smile. The man gave a snort. Elfie smiled to himself - even his snorts were attractive. She always did wonder idly how pureblood genes inspired Mary Sue-dom. She startled slightly.

    “Oh hey, I never did get your name. I’m Elfie.” She brightly said. The man’s easy smile dimmed, and his eyes grew cold for a moment before his face pulled into a mask.

    “I’m… Reggie.” He pathetically concluded. Elfie swallowed a snort of disbelief, but smiled indulgently.

    “Will it make you feel better if I tell you I’m a Rosewood?” Reggie’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before his eyes widened. “Yeah… The oldest. The squib.” She mused.

    “You’re not a muggle?” Reggie confirmed.

    “If I was, I would kick you out for using a quill.” Elfie dryly responded. Reggie’s eyes were more guarded, but he gingerly spoke once more.

    “Regulus Black.” He corrected. Elfie’s eyebrows rose exponentially. Now what would such a staunch blood purist as him be doing in her little store. “And… I was only here for some peace and quiet.” He opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but closed it with an audible click. He stood.  “I...should be going.” Elfie frowned.

    “You’re willing to speak to a muggle but not a squib?” Elfie asked. Regulus didn’t reply, casting a wary glance before grabbing his things and practically running out the door. Elfie sighed, shoulders drooping.

    She supposed she would be doing those ledgers tonight.

   

    “Can you make my regular with a double shot of espresso today?” Elfie looked up from her book, eyes widening in surprise when she saw Regulus in front of her. His face was carefully blank, eyes watching her with a mercurial emotion.

    “Yes, of course.” She mumbled. He inclined his head before sitting down, pulling out his sketchbook with ease, as if he did not stop coming for an entire week since their last conversation. Elfie placed the drink on the table and waited, wondering if either one of them would say anything.

    Noticing her hovering, Regulus looked up. “Thank you.” He softly said, going back to his sketch. Elfie pursed her lips and went back behind the counter, going back to her ledgers, this time with a much more irritable mind. She had just closed the accounts for the day when the door rang once more, and with a  glance to the clock, Elfie was about to inform the customer that it was 10 minutes till closing time but stopped when she was met with the business side of a gun. A robber.

    “Just give me your money, lady. Nobody needs to get hurt today.” The ski-masked man growled, his demeanor tense. Elfie looked to Regulus, who had just looked up and was watching the encounter with a dark look. Elfie slowly nodded, raising her hands as she walked to the cash register. However, before she was able to do anything, Regulus stood and stunned the robber, leaving him on the floor with a heavy thump.

    “The ministry is not going to be happy about that one.” Elfie muttered. Regulus shrugged, walking over to the muggle and frisking him. He found the gun, a wallet and some breath mints and while he passed the wallet to Elfie, he played with the gun in mild curiosity.

    “What is this?” Regulus asked.

    “A pistol. Pull the trigger and a bit of metal is shot at you at very very fast speeds, puncturing your body and killing you or at least making you bleed.” Regulus hummed in response, looking inside the muzzle.

    “Can I keep this?” He slowly asked, looking at Elfie with an odd, unabashed curiosity that set the heavyset woman on edge.

    “Yeah… no point in keeping it, your fingerprints are all over it.” She eventually said, looking into the wallet for identification.

    “Fingerprints?” Regulus asked.

    “Non-magical trace, essentially.” Elife summarized.

    “Muggles are odd.” He concluded.

    “I have to agree.” Elfie laughed. Writing down the man’s information, she put the wallet back in his pocket and sat on a barstool, watching the body with pinched lips.

    “What are you going to do with the body?” Regulus asked eventually.

    “I... was hoping you’d obliviate him and I could leave him in an alley somewhere.”

    “That’s stupid.” Regulus stated.

    “What? I can’t call the muggle aurors. You’ve tampered with him and I can’t explain magic to them. Just obliviate the poor man and leave him in some gutter. He looks poor anyways. He’ll think he passed out drunk.” Elfie softly sighed.

    “He deserves to be punished.” Regulus darkly said.

    “He’s some bum that wanted cash. This has happened before.” Elfie waved her hand, unconcerned. Frankly Regulus was taking this too seriously. She couldn’t call the cops on the idiot, so she should just throw him out.

    “Is the muggle world always this rude?” Regulus asked after a pause.

    “The wizarding world can’t talk - you have Death Eaters.” Elfie snorted

    “Ha ha. At least we don’t hurt the innocent for no reason.” Regulus dryly murmured.

    “We?” Elfie froze.

    “...” Regulus turned to the startled woman with wariness in his eyes. The room seemed to cool, as Elfie felt her heart freeze. A death eater was in her store, one with a wand. One that could kill her and no one would notice. She began to laugh, her eyes wide and body trembling.

    “You’re a death eater. Sweet Jesus, no wonder you left. Were you here to kill me today?” Elife asked, moving away from Regulus.

    “No!” Regulus insisted, his voice worried.

    “Then why are you here?” Elfie snapped.

    “I wanted some quiet.”

    “In the muggle world?” Elfie snorted.

    “No one knows me here but you.”

    “Poor poor pureblood.” Elfie sneered, moving behind the counter, looking for the spare knife she kept in the drawer.

    “I am the heir of the House of Black, Rosewood.” Regulus narrowed his eyes.

    “And I, frankly, don’t care. There is a death eater in my shop and for some reason I’m not dead. Not that I’m complaining but really. I should call the ministry on you.” Elfie should really shut up, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but snap back at whatever he said.

    “I’m not going to kill you. I have no reason to - I like your coffee, if you hadn’t noticed. Besides, you’re a squib, you can’t do anything.” Regulus sneered.

    Elfie took out the knife, pointing it at Regulus, who was looking at her with mild amusement. A traitorous part of Elfie wondered what she looked like - a woman in an apron and dress pointing a meat cleaver at a man who can kill her in two words. Frankly, she wasn’t surprised at his amusement.

    “And for the record, I’m not a death eater. ” Regulus huffed, rolling up his sleeves to show his bare arms. Elfie looked at the man incredulously.

    “It’s not the mark, kid. It’s about the ideology.”

Regulus reached into his pocket, pausing when he saw Elfie duck behind the counter.

“Calm down, I’m just paying for your drink before I obliviate this robber. You sure you don’t want me to put a nightmare curse on him or something?” Regulus hitched a thumb towards the unconscious robber.

“How do I know?” Elfie muttered. She slowly looked over the top of the counter like a crocodile raising its eyes above water, causing Regulus to laugh.

“You’re more pathetic than a first year, Elfie. Get up and take the money.” Regulus barked, placing the notes on the countertop before shooting an obliviate at the man. Regulus knew the man would probably lose a good day or two’s worth of memory with such a crude application, but frankly he didn’t care. Levitating the slack body, he saluted to the wary woman and left the store, intent on throwing him in the nearest ally before enervating him.

“I will never understand wizards.” Elfie muttered, standing only when the door closed. She put the money in the register, smiling slightly when he saw that as always, he remembered to tip well.

    “The usual, Elfie.” The murmur surprised Elfie from her ledger, making her look up and smile - only for the smile to die as she saw Regulus.

    “You look like garbage.” He really did. His eyes were blank, features severe as if blood wasn’t dried on his white sleeves and raven slacks. There was even a tad in his hair. Still, he didn’t even move a muscle at her words. “The last thing you need is your usual… Now go sit down and then let me get some clothes and…”

    “Woman. I require coffee.” Regulus snapped. Elfie recoiled before she schooled her features into hard determination.

    “Sit down Mister Black. I will throw you out if you refuse to change your clothes.” Elfie barked, pointing at the barstool beside her. Elfie’s brown eyes clashed with mercurial gray in an invisible battle of wills, until Regulus sighed and sat, back unnaturally rigid, hands trembling slightly as they rested on his lap. Elfie sighed. “I’m gonna pop up for a bit, you stay here, don’t take a kip and drool on my counter.” The barista said, not even waiting for Regulus’ response before heading upstairs.

Moments later, she returned with a blue flannel shirt and jeans. Regulus’ bore into the clothes, lips curling in disgust. Elfie, ignoring the look, dropped the clothes unceremoniously on his lap, gesturing to the restroom. Regulus bared his teeth, glaring at the stubborn woman.

“Go, you mutt.” Elfie commanded. Regulus continued the staring contest before growling and standing up suddenly, catching the clothes before they fell to the floor, and striding to the restroom. “Damn 5 year old.” Elfie muttered.

Elfie brewed some coffee, though adding cinnamon to makes the drink nice and spicy. Regulus seemed to be, not himself, per say. She made another cup, a simple mocha just to have something warm, and set the two drinks on Regulus’ regular table, ready to interrogate the taller man. When she heard the bathroom door shut, Elfie glanced up, giving a small smile when she met Regulus’ blank gaze. Regulus’ scowl had thankfully smoothed into a grimace - he did look quite awkward and gangly in her old boyfriend’s clothes - but his overall demeanor was unchanged. He placed the dirty clothes beside him on the booth.

“I’ll take those after I finish my coffee. Now, mind telling me why you walked in here spotting more red polka dots than a clown?” Elfie smiled sweetly. Regulus opened his mouth, and then froze when the sentence sunk into him. He blinked and then shook his head.

“I… had a bloody encounter.” Regulus gingerly admitted.

“I’ll say...” Elfie snorted, unsatisfied with the answer. She gestured him to continue.

“It ended with him dead.” Regulus concluded.

“Ah.” Elfie’s face pinched slightly in sympathy and mild worry. She took a sip from her coffee, unsure how to answer. “Well… I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I killed him.” Regulus uttered, more to himself than to anything else. His lips parted as his gaze fixated on an unknown granule of the countertop. “I killed a man.” He began rubbing his forearm somewhat obsessively. “He was… a mudblood. A year older than me. Hufflepuff. Jesse Carson.” He choked out, eventually digging his nails in as he tried to calm his breathing.

    Elfie, stunned, grasped at his hands, trying to stop the obsessive motions. Regulus’ head snapped up, mercurial eyes swirling in a violent Black madness that made fear flare up in Elfie’s bust. She held her ground, however, tightening her grip until he finally relaxed.

    “Drink your coffee.” She numbly murmured.

    Elfie watched his blank features, wondering just how the man across from her managed to kill another, another magical person at that. Elfie remembered her youth - her own hatred of muggles and muggleborn - but the hatred was ebbed away after years and years of living like a muggle. The man in front of her, however, was one embroiled with such a hatred, still strong. Elfie wondered if she would’ve murdered by now, in a different life.

    Regulus gave a cough, pulling Elfie from her thoughts. Regulus winced, looking warily at the coffee before pushing it away. Elfie, glancing at her own, untouched, cup, passed hers to him. Regulus furrowed his brow as Elfie stood, but Elfie gestured for him to wait.

    Walking into the backroom, Elfie let out a deep breath, a weight lifting off of her shoulders. Part of her wanted to call the aurors - her memory would be enough to get Regulus arrested - but at the same time… it was Regulus. He didn’t seem to relish the act of murder yet. She looked around the slightly cluttered break room, picking up a few vials from inside of a hollowed-out book on the bookshelf. The brown one was a sleeping draught, the green one, a fast-acting poison. The third was a love potion, which a muggleborn patron gifted her jokingly. Smiling to herself, she placed the love potion back, pocketing the other two. She also picked up a small but sharp knife from the storage closet.

    Simply put, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.

    Elfie bit her bottom lip, fingers rapping on the doorknob before she took a deep breath and let it out. Worst comes to worse, she threw the poison at the man, stab him and watch him bleed to his death. Best comes to best, Regulus Black leaves and deserts You-know-who.

    Well, a girl could dream.

    Striding back into the shop, Elfie met Regulus’ inquiring gaze with a tremulous smile.

    “You found everything you needed?” Regulus politely asked.

    “Yes.” The silence filled the air between them as Elfie awkwardly threw away the finished drink, finally sitting down. “Will you answer me a question?”

    “I suppose.” Regulus said neutrally.

    “Why did you kill that muggleborn?” Elfie asked. She captured his gaze, never letting him evade it. She was serious. Regulus stood, tension in his muscles, and looked desperately like he wanted to run away, but a glare from Elfie made him sigh deeply and sit back down.

    “A death eater initiation. I had to kill one to prove my loyalty.” He admitted. Elfie gasped, feeling fear pool in her stomach. “Please, I’m not going to hurt you…” Regulus said, his voice cracking. Elfie shook her head, taking deep breaths to get her sanity back to her.

    This wasn’t any death eater. This was Regulus.

    “Why did you come here?” Elfie pressed again.

    “I… Mother was so proud of me afterwards. She began to curse away my brother and then… my father gave me a pat on the back.There was a man dying of blood loss on the floor and they only saw pride in that. His blood is as red as mine…” Regulus let out a shuddering breath. “He was a threat to our culture, he was impudent, weak. But… his blood went everywhere. I shot a cutting curse at him, one that Snape taught me. Snape seemed pleased with my spell - he’s already a death eater you see, two years older than me - but all I could see was the red. And then My Lord smiled at me.” Regulus cracked a bitter smile. “He was pleased. I was another Black under his alabaster thumb. He marked me and then… just dismissed us. Those eyes, they were watching me the entire time. He knows. He knows I’m weak. He’s going to kill me one day because of it. I’m not worthy.”

Regulus was rambling, his words spilling from his mouth, forgetting entirely about Elfie’s presence as he held his head in his hands and began to tremble. “God, I thought this would be easier - they’re only mudbloods - but… I knew Carson. He was the beater, he inclined his head to me every time I won a quidditch match for Slytherin, like he wasn’t angry. He was never angry. I’m… not a murderer. I’m dark. But I’m not evil. Evil… Evil are the muggles who tried to kill us in the witch trials. Evil are the mudbloods who take away our culture. I’m not evil… this is for the betterment of wizarding kind; in the end, they don’t matter.” Regulus let out a bitter, barking laugh. “Then why does it hurt so much?!” He whispered, tears pooling in his gaze.

Elfie noticed only then that her nails had dug into her palms, leaving angry crescent markings. She winced and then focused again on the man, no, boy, before her. He clearly was broken over this. Biting her lip, she stood slowly, sitting beside him and taking him into her arms, rubbing gentle circles on his suddenly tense structure.

“Aren’t you scared I’ll murder you too?” Regulus snapped.

“No.” Elfie sighed, continuing her ministrations.

“You’re an idiot, squib.”

“I know, Regulus.”

The silence bled into the night, but this time, it wasn’t so uncomfortable.

    “I hate the rain.” Regulus grumbled.

    “I can’t complain - the tourists always pick up a cuppa or a pastry on wet days like these. Besides, you’re in bloody London, of course it’s going to rain.” Elfie grinned. Regulus shot a raised brow at her before he set his wet coat on his usual seat.

    “The usual.”

    “Of course.” Elfie inclined her head.

    It had been 3 weeks since Regulus had joined the Death Eaters, a topic rarely discussed between the duo. Still, the man came regularly to the store, occasionally making small talk though mostly sketching. He once showed her the sketchbook - most of the art were portraits of older family members, historical figures and people who caught Regulus’ eye. There was even a sketch of Elfie chiding the coffee machine for being annoying - something that made her smile every time she thought of it.

    “So my little brother contacted me.” Elfie began gingerly. Regulus cocked his head, looking up from the sketchbook as Elfie sat across him.

    “Hyacinth Rosewood?”

    “Yes, Cin was inviting me to his wedding. He’s getting married to the younger Greengrass child...” Elfie’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember the name.

    “Ophilia, yes.” Regulus supplied.

    “Thank you. Anyways, as Greengrass is inviting some half-blood bastard on their side of the family, my brother convinced them to let me come. I can’t believe he still remembers honestly. He was 6 when I left, and I’ve only sent him a letter once or twice. He’s two years older than you - Ravenclaw. You were probably invited, weren’t you? Purebloods are often inbred in some way or another...”

    “Yes, Ophelia was a friend of mine in Slytherin, a fourth cousin, and a potential marital partner. She invited me.”

    “Well, at least I know you. I don’t know how easy it’ll be to see my old home again... ” Elfie gave a weak smile, though dimming at Regulus’ pensive look.

    “Mother is ill, I don’t know if she’ll come. But as I remember that Cyrus used to be friends with Remus Lupin, there’s a chance my own brother will come with Mr. Lupin.” Regulus murmured, biting his lip.

    “Lupin..?”

    “Minor pureblood family. Though the Lupin heir is a half-blood - mother was a muggleborn.” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “Friends with my brother, though if what the grapevine is true, my brother is courting him.” Elfie arched a brow, though Regulus just shrugged.   

    “I want to say that I have met your brother, when he came over to meet mine. Sirius, was it?” Eflie asked. Regulus nodded, face going oddly blank. “Why don’t you just ask him what his preferences are? It’s not like he and Lupin can’t have a relationship after he gets married and has an heir. There are many families with lesbian daughters who would be willing to keep only a preface of marriage for lineage purposes.” Elfie asked, then she spoke more jokingly, “I know Sirius of my grandfather’s generation had absolutely no qualms whatsoever.” Elfie smirked, “Grandfather never did get over being snubbed by him…”

    “Mm…” Regulus stood up. He threw away his drink and began to put on his coat.

    “Regulus? Are you -” Elfie gingerly asked, placing a gentle hand on his tense shoulder.

    “As mother isn’t coming with me, I will meet with you before and stay until your brother greets you, so you do not encounter any trouble with the other purebloods. Do take care, Rosewood.” Regulus coolly cut her off. Elfie opened her mouth, but after looking at Regulus’ hardened expression, closed it and nodded, grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, showing her worry silently.

    As he left, Elfie noticed that he had forgotten his sketchbook.

   

    “Fucking muggles…” Regulus cursed, putting his wand back in his pocket. He hated obliviating muggles, especially those who had seen him apparate into a supposedly abandoned warehouse. Their filth truly did spread everywhere, it seemed. He approached the main road, ignoring the odd looks he got, knowing that his robes made him stand out. However, he couldn’t bring himself to care - it was the day of the wedding and he was running late.

    “Elfie!” Regulus barked as he strode in the door, only to pause when he saw her, sitting at his usual place, holding his sketchbook in her arms. “I… must have forgot that.” He muttered. Elfie smiled, passing the book to him so he could shrink it and place it in his pocket.

    His eyes strayed back to Elfie. She looked… decidedly awkward. It wasn’t that she was ugly - no, she managed to look akin to a pureblood lady - but she fidgeted oddly. She wasn’t built for a ball gown - more for combat robes really - as her shoulders were too broad, her chin a little too proud and her stature too candid. But the deep indigo dress made her skin luminous, and the speckles in her chocolate eyes gleam mischievously, so Regulus couldn’t say that she didn’t clean up well. His elder cousin Bellatrix was just as masculine though not as awkward as Elfie.

    “You look beautiful.” Regulus smoothly stated, offering his arm.

    “And you look dashing.” Elfie gave a winning smile, accepting the gesture. Regulus appertated, catching Elfie as she stumbled. They were a mile away from Rosewood manor, just outside the wards. As they were late, they were alone.

    Elfie’s face blanked, her lips pinched as she began to walk towards the main garden, where the ceremony was to take place. Regulus watched his friend closely, wary.

    “You’ll be fine.” Regulus asserted. Elfie turned to him, arching a skeptical brow. “Everyone here knows you’ve lived like a muggle, they won’t give you much trouble regarding etiquette. Just remember forks are ordered from outside to inside.” Regulus murmured, knowing that he was purposely missing what Elfie was really worried about.

    She snorted and shook her head. “I haven’t forgotten what I’ve learned. Besides, the muggles who adopted me took me to some upper class events - they were respected, regardless of their economic status. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been to the wizarding world. I need potion ingredients to brew, letters I have to send, and the occasional book or ice cream I wish to indulge in. I’ve got everything but the Daily Prophet subscription, and that’s because I don’t keep owl treats on me.”

    “Brew potions?” Regulus asked, surprised.

    “Squibs have magic - it’s trapped. I can make potions well.” Elfie said, her smile dying.

    “Oh.”

    “No one really does bother to learn what a squib can and can’t do.” Elfie gave a dark chuckle. “I’d get my OWLs and NEWTs in potions and start an apothecary if I wasn’t in charge of my coffee shop. Frankly, I prefer muggle ignorance to squib discrimination.” Regulus nodded sagely, not wishing to cross her, even though he couldn’t quite understand why she would choose the muggle world over the wizarding one when given the option.

    They marched on in silence, though Regulus extended his arm once more, for politeness, when they saw the arch of flowers that signaled the doorway. Upon entering, few glanced his way - discreetly, not making any comment, not yet - and so Regulus guided her to their hosts.

    Ophelia Greengrass reminded Regulus of a china doll. Blonde, almost white, hair framed her aristocratic, heart-shaped face. Her eyes were a jolly hazel as she bustled about in her flowing, silver bridal robes. She was simply the epitome of bubbly, graceful, hostess. Her hand never left Hyacinth’s hand, though Hyacinth was much more reserved, content to watch his wife with a small smile. Hyacinth held the sturdy build of his sister, though his eyes were a warmer amber, rather than a deep brown. Regulus could see the resemblance, though Hyacinth’s mannerisms were drastically different - he moved as if life itself was molasses, while Elfie moved with purpose and speed, needed in her line of work.

    “Lord Rosewood, Lady Rosewood?” Regulus politely cut into the Rosewoods’ discussion with Lucius Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange. All eight eyes peered at Regulus, making him slip automatically into his pureblood mask - guarded eyes and a faint smile. Ophelia grinned upon seeing him.

    “Regulus! Please, darling, it’s still Ophelia.” She greeted warmly. Regulus took her extended hand and kissed it, giving a nod to Hyacinth, who was peering at Elfie curiously. “And who is the wonderful woman who’s with you today?” Ophelia asked. Elfie, who was content to just watch, took a step forward and extended her hand.

    “Alfalfa Rosewood, simply an honor to meet you.” Hyacinth’s eyes widened, a smile flourishing across his face. Ophelia simply blinked at the hand, unsure of what to do. Regulus elbowed Elfie, inclining his head towards the hand, making the woman retreat it without any change in emotion. Lucius’ eyes, however, betrayed his mild amusement, somehow completely unsurprised.

    “Sister.” Hyacinth breathed, moving forward to pull her into an embrace. “I cannot believe you came - I’m simply overjoyed.” Elfie returned it with mild discomfort, pulling away hastily.

    “It’s wonderful to see my little brother all grown up.” Elfie murmured, her smile bitter.

    “Please, let us take a moment alone.” Hyacinth let go of his wife, shooting her a reassuring smile, before placing his large palm in the small of her back and leading her towards a small alcove under a willow tree, where they can have privacy.

    Elfie sat, her back ramrod straight as she gazed at the butterflies passing by. Hyacinth placed his hand on her lap, drawing her attention. “I offered multiple times for you to come back! After mother… passed… I put you back on the family tree, Alfalfa.” Hyacinth smiled hopefully. Elfie returned it feebly. Her hands trembled with the vibrations of her thoughts - all screaming at her that she wasn’t prepared for this. She really wasn’t.

    “That’s sweet of you, brother, and I read all of them. I am so happy to have stayed in your consciousness all of this time.” Elfie gingerly responded. Hyacinth sighed, watching the ants cross the stone sitting area. Every so often, he snuck glances at his elder sister, wondering if he left her long enough, she would be so still that she would become just another statue hidden amongst the manor garden. Inhaling a sharp breath, he thought of what he could ask.

    “What have you been doing all this time? You never tell me much in the letters you give me, only thoughts about a book, tips for food, or advice.” Hyacinth eventually inquired.

    “I own a cafe in London and a flat above it. I live a simple and content life.” Elfie said.

    “You don’t need to, though.” He burst out, “You can live with Ophelia and I, be our sister, our future governess, potion mistress, or whatever your heart desires. Mother regretted giving you up, it hurt her so much - no, it hurt all of us. We wish we at least visited. Please, come back home.” Hyacinth desperately offered, clutching his sister’s trembling shoulders.

    Elfie looked into Hyacinth’s desperate eyes, wondering just what had gotten into the pureblood. She had vividly remembered her mother’s violent grief at the thought that her husband sacrificed his life to protect a daughter who was a squib. Her mother threw her out that day, not even giving her the countesses other squibs had. Where was mother every adoption day, when each new couple looked at her piteously before settling on some cute urchin? Where was mother on the days Elfie contemplated killing herself? Where was mother when her new parents grew ill? When they slowly lost memory of Elfie herself from Alzheimer's? Where was mother when she had medical bills to pay? Where was mother then? She held her tongue, however. “What of higher society?”

    “What of it?”

    “Are the Rosewoods not a dark family?” Elfie asked, gritting her teeth. Just what was the fool doing?! He was out to ruin his own life.

    “Of course we are!” Hyacinth said, taken aback.

    “A dark family accepting a squib? Our ancestors, and all of your friends would have an aneurysm.” Elfie huffed, her eyes narrowing.

    “Aneurysm?” Hyacinth blinked.

    “Muggle disease, ignore it.” Elfie spat out, pressuring him to speak on.

    “Ah… well… it’s not completely unprecedented. Before the 1800s, squibs simply didn’t marry other major purebloods.” Elfie arched a brow. “You’re still magical - you’re not a muggle. It’s disgraceful to be treated that way.” Hyacinth insisted, making Elfie purse her lips. She lived and worked with said muggles. And for all of their filth, they were kinder to her than the purebloods ever were. “I simply think that you would be so much happier back with us. Please, come home.” He begged.

    “I refuse, brother.” Elfie stated, glaring at him. She wasn’t going to accept his guilt-driven charity now, when she was finally on her own.

    “Alfalfa…” Hyacinth keened, eyes desperately searching her hardened face for some weakness or consent.

    “It’s Elfie, brother. I do not go by that name anymore.” Hyacinth’s face fell. Elfie’s glare softened. Perhaps she was being too harsh - her brother could not possibly comprehend the life she had lived through.

    “But that’s… not a plant.” He whispered.

    “I’m aware.”

    “So… that’s it then?” Hyacinth asked once more.

    “I… suppose.” Elfie licked her suddenly dry lips. The two held the silence between them, hanging over them as the branches of the willow tree they were under. Hyacinth wasn’t the pureblood lord that’s expected of the dark. While Elfie was satisfied with his intact humanity, she feared for his future. And, in a sudden realization, she began to fear for her own. What stopped the Greengrass in-laws from accidentally killing her to remove her from the family tree? For any spawn she may or may not have would be, technically, part of pureblood society, because of Hyacinth’s actions.

    “I have a question, though.” Elfie snapped out of her thoughts with his statement.

    “Please, do tell.”

    “Do… you still care about me?” She blinked at his question, feeling a mixture of confusion and incredulity.

    “Of course. I say so in every single letter. I wouldn’t lie to you.” She said, sighing. Perhaps now was not the time to brood - it was a wedding, after all.

    “I’d become a neutral family for you, Alfalfa.” Hyacinth whispered.

    “I… the Greengrasses would be furious. Ophelia married you so they won’t be qualified as such, you realize?” Elfie reminded him.

    “I know. But Ophelia does care for me - she wouldn’t mind. She’d be happy to move to Russia with me if Dumbledore sinks the ministry into the mud.” Hyacinth smiled.

    “Mm…” Elfie wondered if he really would. There’s a reason families don’t leave England. She wondered how Hyacinth could be so idealistic… “May I ask a question of my own?”

    “Yes, yes of course.” He said.

    “Have you taken the dark mark yet?” Hyacinth paused, his hand unconsciously gripping his left wrist.

    “Yes, I took it last year, though I’m not a true Death Eater, only a supplier of herbology goods and a caretaker of all of the Dark Lord’s pets. And, of course, a ministry spy.”

    “Pets?” Eflie asked.

    “Just… be glad I have a penchant for ferocious beasts.” Elfie laughed. Suddenly, he grinned. “So how come you came on Regulus’ arm?” Elfie gaped for a second before reeling.

    “Hyacinth!” Elfie blushed, “Please, no. He’s too young for me. He’d younger than you!”

    “Well his older brother is here if that’s what you’re looking for.” Hyacinth said, his face completely straight, to Elfie’s mortification.

    “Hyacinth! Please… I’m… I’m a squib!” She threw out, knowing it would essentially cancel any English pureblood family off of the list.

    “Many minor european light families would be willing to take your hand, such as the Dokovitches or the Cruels - they don’t find squibs dishonorable. A couple creature families also wouldn't mind - such as a minor branch of the Delacours...” Hyacinth began listing off, until Elfie punched his arm, her face a bright red.

    “Brother, I am far from ready to marry!” she exclaimed.

    “If you say so.” Hyacinth murmured, still grinning.

    “I’m the older sibling and I’m telling you to hold your tongue!” Elfie commanded.

    “Yes, My Lady.“ Hyacinth droned.

    “Better, Hyacinth, better.”

    “Now wasn’t that a curious sight…” Lucius turned away from the retreating duo and to his younger friend, “It’s good to see you again Regulus. Good job with that mudblood - I heard you didn’t even flinch when cutting him down.” Lucius said, his smile wan. Regulus turned away from Elfie’s retreating form, facing Lucius with warmth. Regardless of his snake-like tendencies, Lucius was a clever man. He was also kind enough to keep Regulus and his friend Severus under his wing - well, until he graduated.

    “It’s a mudblood, Lucius.” Regulus laughed.

    “Still, the first is always the hardest. It’s the blood - makes the emotions flare and all. It’s wonderful to know that you are not as weak as some of the minor death eaters. Care to come with me to get a glass of champagne?” Regulus inclined his head, trailing behind the taller blonde, occasionally flashing smiles at familiar faces - most of them, really.

    “How are you, Lucius?” Regulus said, taking the drink from the man.

    “Well, and you?”

    “As per expected. How is Narcissa?”

    “Quite well, Narcissa is with finally with child - she’s with the other Blacks.” Lucius tipped his head towards the other side of the room, where the elegant blonde was, indeed, chatting with Bellatrix, Cygnus, Orion and Walburga.

    “I must congratulate her.” Regulus murmured. He remembered his cousin lamenting to him of how it was so hard to conceive child - it truly was an accomplishment for her.

    “Yes… She did want to see you.” Regulus looked towards Lucius.   

    “Oh?”

    “Something about her favorite little cousin growing up?” A malicious grin spread across his face, making Regulus sigh and shake his head. Narcissa, for some reason, took quite a shine to him when they were little, and kept him as her adopted brother ever since.

    “Please Lucius, we’re at a public event.”  
    “You’re on first name basis with practically everyone here. This isn’t public.” Regulus knew that was true - this was as least public it could get, as it was a group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws who already knew each other well. With, of course, a couple of exceptions, but it was largely private. Hyacinth was never much for lavish events.

    “Shush you.”

    “Hardly. I am curious, though, why was the lovely Lady Rosewood with you?” Lucius asked, drawing Regulus’ attention once more.

    “She’s not a Rosewood anymore.” He murmured.

    “Hyacinth added her back on. I know, because I did the legal paperwork.” Lucius drawled, arching a platinum brow.

    “Ah… well…” Regulus blinked, surprised at the action. “She happens to own a small cafe I frequent, and I got to know her.” Regulus smoothly responded, refusing to look nervous.

    “She owns a cafe?” Lucius enquired.

    “Yes, her adopted parents’.”

    “Muggles?”

    “Sadly.” Regulus scrunched up his nose, making Lucius look thoughtfully at him.

    “Well she is a squib.” He conceded, making Regulus furrow his brow.

    “She could be given to a mudblood family or something.” Regulus said.

    “That’s probably crueler.” Lucius laughed, making Regulus shake his head, the edge of his lips curling into a smile. “But no really, why is she here?”

    “She got invited. You know Hyacinth idealized his sister like nothing.” Regulus said.

    “Of course, he mailed her every few months the entire 7 years of Hogwarts. But is he really stupid enough to bring her back into his daily life? He has taken the mark, after all. He isn’t allowed such a weakness.” Lucius asserted.

    “I doubt it. Elfie really doesn’t want to come back to magical society for some reason or another. It’s for all of our bests, really.” Regulus asserted. He knew Elfie moderately, but he knew that the woman was nothing if not prideful and independent.

    “Elfie?”

    “She doesn’t go by Alfalfa.” Regulus explained.

    “Well, that itself is telling.” Lucius chuckled. Regulus hummed, taking a sip. “Though I wonder why you still associate with her. She _is_ a squib.”

    “What can I say? I appreciate her coffee too much to let her status bother me. She may not be pureblood, but her coffee is good, and that’s what I know her as, and that’s what I want from such an establishment as her’s.” Regulus shrugged.

    “There are magical coffee stores. And house elves.” Lucius pointed out.

    “And there’s people who know me in them. You lock yourself in your hidden study - one even Narcissa doesn’t know the location of - for quiet, Lucius. As there are too many portraits and people in Grimmauld Place or Black mannor, I cannot indulge in the same. I appreciate the store for the fact that it is quiet. Is that what you wanted to hear, Lucius?” Regulus softly spoke, his words pointed as his eyes hardened.

    “Perhaps. Don’t grow too attached to her, however. The Dark Lord is of the mind that Squibs are akin to Muggleborns - made only to breed more magical beings.” Lucius warned, watching his younger friend with wariness.

    “Pureblood society is still split upon it. She’s not a bastard, just unlucky.” Regulus defended. Lucius scoffed.

    “Split along the lines of Light and Dark, you mean. Our lord isn’t split on the issue.”

    “Of course.” Regulus conceded.

    “Don’t forget who is your master, it’s the best for your health.” Lucius murmured.

    “I’m well aware of the business end of his wand.” Regulus growled.

    “Are you really?” Lucius drawled, eyes narrowing.

    “Are you suggesting something, Lucius?” Regulus asked, voice tight.

    “I’m suggesting you be more conscious. I thought the Blacks would have instilled in you such.” Lucius hissed.

    “I am a loyal servant who does whatever my master asks of me, Malfoy, my associations with estranged people who don’t even want to be part of the wizarding world doesn’t concern him, or even you, for that matter.” Regulus spat.

    “Be careful. One never knows.”

    It was then, a soft feminine voice interrupted their conversation. “One never does, though I wonder what my husband is warning you against… don’t tell me you began an opium addiction? You’d have a terrible time marrying with that.” Narcissa cut in, teasing smile on her face. The pale woman was sculpted, not made, and it showed in the in the deliberate movement that graced her floral name. The two men turned towards the calculating woman, anger put aside for now.

    “No, Lucius is simply deciding to be my new older brother.” Regulus drawled.

    “Well, he is your new brother-in-law and quite intelligent.” Narcissa conceded, smiling wanly “Though for the longest of times I thought he was just a pretty face.” Huffing, Lucius uncrossed his arms, before offering his hand to Narcissa. She declined, shooting him a questioning glance before turning to Regulus with a smile. Lucius left.

    “How are you, cousin?” He inquired.

    “As well as one with child can be.” She drawled, smiling  triumphantly.

    “Ah, well, Lucius spoiled me of your surprise. Congratulations, however.” Narcissa pouted, making Regulus laugh.

    “Lucius always does that.” She sighed. “It takes the fun out an old pureblood lady’s life. Gossip and slander are our lifeblood.” Regulus cracked a smile at her serious expression.

    “You’re far from old, Cissy.” He complimented.

    “You’re a diplomat, my dear Regulus.” She dryly said.

    “Hardly.” Regulus scoffed.

    “Well, I’m glad you came. I never see Hyacinth nowadays and it’s nice to see you up and about.” Regulus grinned, amused. Narcissa’s face was, however, slightly guarded. “But… did you happen to see Sirius?” Regulus’ face twisted into a scowl.

    “No.” He shortly said.

    “You could talk to him.” Regulus was about to protest when Narcissa raised her hand to stop him. “Hear me out. He loved you more than anyone else in this family - you could become friends with him and get information. This is the perfect opportunity! He’s with no one but that filthy beast. And he is partial to you as well. You know how Aunt Walburga was after he left. At least for her, make her son not a total waste.” Narcissa softly said, placing a dainty hand on his shoulder. Regulus sighed, not meeting Narcissa’s eyes. Frankly, he didn’t know if he could stop himself from mauling Sirius for breaking their family. Sirius had always been so selfish - becoming a gryffindor, making friends with James Potter, refusing to follow pureblood traditions. Somehow he wasn’t able to understand that his life was more than about him, it was about the Blacks. He was Sirius Black.

    “I…”

    “Regulus.” The two turned, seeing Hyacinth and Elfie approach. Elfie tipped her head at Narcissa. “Lady Malfoy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Alfalfa Rosewood.” Narcissa blinked, surprise flashing through her eyes before she wore her delicate smile once more.

    “A pleasure to I as well, Lady Alfalfa.”

    “Just Mistress Rosewood.”

    “Ah…” Narcissa’s smile strained slightly.

    Regulus slipped away from the trio, catching Elfie’s eyes but ignoring the inquiry in them, as he began to search for his… brother. His eyes finally caught on Sirius’ laughing form, standing beside a bemused Lupin and a Hufflepuff - Bones, was it? They were in the corner, under the shade of one of the many willow trees, separate from the rest of the Slytherclaw herd. Bones, an auror, was 5 years older than Sirius but also a close family friend of the Rosewoods. The Bones family were one of the oldest neutral families, yet it seemed with the death of the heir and the younger daughter joining the aurors, they were slowly light. The third daughter even became a healer. Perhaps Hyacinth invited her as a sort of sway to neutrality once more.

    “Regulus?” Lupin saw him first.

    The entire group silenced, all eyes boring into him. Remus’ held confusion, Bones - indifference. It was Sirius’ that caught his eye. It was a mixture of anger and something else. Something more yielding.

    “Brother, Lupin, Lady Bones.” He neutrally greeted.

    “Heir Black.” Bones tipped her head, smile small yet warm. Her sister was a year older than him, a Slytherin. Regulus knew her well - a sweet, yet sharp girl.

    “Brother.” Regulus held his gaze, cracking a small smile. Sirius didn’t return it.

    “Can you forgive my rudeness if I take Sirius from you all?” The half-blood and Sirius met each other's eyes, silently communicating before Sirius sighed, raking his hand through his hair before offering Regulus a half-hearted grin.

    “Of course.” Lupin smiled, that tired smile that reminded him of a worn but loved book.

    He tipped his head towards another alcove before moving there, knowing Sirius was behind him. He couldn’t wait for this family reunion.

   

“Hey Regulus.” Elfie smiled, though not as Lady Alfalfa but as Elfie, the barista.

    Regulus tipped his head. “The regular please.” She hummed and began to make it, leaving Regulus to just watch her. News of Hyacinth’s actions spread through the pureblood gossip vines, though the reactions were mixed. They knew Elfie wasn’t staying. But if she married into magic, or produced a mudblood, Regulus knew the purebloods would be in outrage - the babe would be considered a Rosewood member. His thoughts never did show on his face though, leaving Elfie blissfully unaware of the stormcloud brewing in her friend’s mind.

    “And here you go.” Regulus paid, leaving to sit in the booth.

    It was a cloudy day, the world shrouded in a gently hue as Regulus allowed his breath to soften. He was tensed up ever since the last death eater meeting - the Dark Lord wasn’t pleased with Hyacinth and punished him for his infraction. Regulus didn’t want the same to happen to him, and yet, he couldn’t give up this hour of quiet when he didn’t have to be pureblood heir or hardened Death Eater.

    _“Regulus.”_

_“Sirius.”_

_“God, you’re tall.”_

_“And yet, you’re still annoying.”_

_“You haven’t changed one bit.”_

Regulus began to draw, idly sketching off a trapezoid to base the torso out of. Moderately broad shoulders, slightly hunched over but still prideful- Sirius liked using his hair as a curtain, improved “mystique”. Regulus had to grudgingly agree. Self consciously, he pushed his hair behind his ear, fingers rapping on the counter as he tried to decide what emotion Sirius would wear.

    _“You broke mother’s heart.”_

_“She broke mine - only fitting.”_

_Regulus wanted to say that Sirius had broken his, as well._

    Delicate hands, Sirius always had delicate hands, Regulus remembered. It was one of the few things he remembered from their childhood - when he snuck into Sirius’ bed as a child, his slender hands would rub his back and card through his hair, always moving, but quite delicate. It’s hard to depict them still, even though he was drawing them in motion. They never were still when Sirius spoke.

    _“So are you indoctrinated by Snake-face?” Regulus’ eye twitched._

_“I’m too young.”_

_“Are you? I’m going to be an auror.”_

_“I’m aware. I keep up with what you do.”_

_“That’s creepy.”_

_“You’re my brother.”_

    Regulus parted Sirius’ lips slightly, quirking his lips in the way he did every single time he said “brother.” Sirius would always call him “brother” and never give a nickname to Regulus as he would to everyone else. Sirius once even called Mother, “Wally”. She was not amused.

    _“Why are you here?”_

_“Remus was invited. I couldn’t leave my best friend in a room with all of these slimy snakes, now could I?”_

_“I’m a Slytherin, Sirius.”_

_“And? You all are all the same.”_

Someone could talk to Sirius for hours and never actually speak. Regulus knew that Sirius would have made an oddly clever Slytherin, if he wasn’t so hell bent on tarnishing the family name. That, and that stupid idealism against the Dark Lord. If he wasn't so light, Regulus knew that mother would've eventually forgiven Sirius joining Gryffindor. Regulus began Sirius’ eyes, streaked with smile lines and shadowed deeply, but when his hand slipped, he froze. Gritting his teeth, Regulus snapped the quill in half, resting his head on his hands, sighing deeply.

    _“Really, Sirius?”_

_“I’m not lying. All of you are the same. You’re a hypocrite too, Regulus. You had Hyacinth's older sister on your arm.”_

_“So?”_

_“So pick a side, before the decision is made for you.”_

   

    Elfie looked up at the sound of something breaking. Regulus collapsed into his hands before her own eyes, making her stand immediately, closing the ledger book. Eyebrows scrunched, she approached Regulus, gently resting a hand on his shoulder but jerking back when he started violently. She sat across from him, watching the emotions play across his face.

    “Regulus, are you okay?” Elfie eventually asked.

    “Do I look okay?” Regulus huffed, getting his composure back and hiding his drawing quickly. Elfie wasn’t able to get a glance at it.

    “Can I do anything for you?” She gingerly asked.

    “Feel free to go away.” Regulus spat. Elfie’s lips pinched, but she held her tongue. She stood, striding back to the counter, where she sat back on her table and decidedly tried to ignore him. He deserved it.

    But she couldn’t help but notice how his breathing was forcibly deep - as if he was trying to calm himself down. He was still, not scratching away like he was previously. He wasn’t even touching his drink, just breathing unevenly. Elfie heard his feet as he stood, shuffling as he packed up his things, moving towards the door.

    “Regulus?” The shuffling stopped. “Please, will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

    “....It’s your fault. I shouldn’t have came here in the first place.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Elfie snapped, annoyed at Regulus’ peevishness.

    “I shouldn’t have ever met you.” Regulus growled sullenly.

    “Why? Because I’m a squib?” Elfie mockingly said.

    “Yes. You cause problems everywhere you go. Why do you make this so hard?” Elfie froze at the response. She scanned Regulus’ face for any semblance of a lie, or a joke, or _something_. Her face fell when she found nothing.

    “...Get out of my store.” He didn’t even flinch at her harsh tone as he left.

Elfie looked back at the ledgers, numbness seeping into her.

    They were all the same, in the end, weren’t they?

   

    Regulus pulled up his hood, cursing under his breath, watching the words condense and float towards the sky, only to be pelted by the snow as it assailed the ground. God, he hated the weather around Yule. He was grateful that his great-great-grandfather decided moving the main branch of the family to St. Petersburg was a bad idea - Regulus wouldn’t know what to do if it was that cold all the time.

    He turned at the crossroads between Grimmauld Lane and Avery Avenue, wondering if he really should turn left…

    _“The Dark lord and the inner circle went to downtown London last week… they were some casualties, even though it was a stealth operation - a muggle on Avery Avenue saw them, some small coffee shop owner. The muggle tried to interfere, the stupid thing… Apparently it was taken care of quite cleanly.”_

    Regulus put his hands on his nose, trying to not lose feeling in it. He remembered the last Death Eater meeting vividly. He was on the far left, though probably only 2 or 3 rows back, a well spot for a relatively new recruit. He was, however, a Black, so it was granted. The entire time, Nott gossiped to Parkinson and Crabbe, his voice just loud enough. And upon hearing, Regulus had felt his stomach drop. He felt like he knew who. He knew very well.

    The two storied store was dark - just after closing time. Regulus knew that Elfie was still awake, at least, before he stopped coming to her. It had been 3 months since he, or anyone in the wizarding world, had seen her. He tested the door, silently unlocking it with magic when it wouldn’t budge. He did the same for the door to her apartment.

    He had only seen it once, when he waited at the threshold for Elfie to get a piece of paper to write something down for him on. It had been quite a long time ago - he really didn’t remember.

    The door creaked violently, making Regulus twitch at the startling sound. What startled him most, however, was the dim light emanating from the sitting room. He crept around the corner, relaxing when he realized it was only the muggle television carrying on soundlessly. He then tensed; why was it still on?

    “Elfie?” He called. Nothing.  

“Elfie?” Once more, as he approached the kitchen. Nothing but the pensive LED lights on the clock greeted him. He didn’t call out this time as he approached the only bedroom, rather knocking softly. And yet, no answer awaited. Hoping to Merlin that Elfie was not dressing, Regulus opened the door and froze.

The room was ransacked. The drapes were torn down, windows cracked, bed was in upheavals - Regulus wondered if he had missed a tornado that went through London when he wasn’t paying attention. He examined the room, his initial shock slowly wearing off. There seemed to be nothing personal left - the dresser was empty, empty photo frames were trashed and the bookshelf was naked.

It was as if Elfie had to leave in a hurry.

Regulus felt his stomach drop, and took a deep breath before walking out of the room, ignoring the way his emotions poked at the cracks of his very apathetic mask. He had better things to worry about than a runaway squib. Much, much better things to worry about.

Yet the way home, he couldn’t help but glare at his left forearm, unable to say what he really thought: _it’s always his fault in the end._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
